-• when my two favorite people met •-

I smile through my tears when Vivaan crouches to my mother's grave, his hand reaching forward to brush off the dried leaves and dust nestled in her engraved name. Then he smiles and my heart squeezes in my chest, my lungs feel stuffy, but I don't let the corners of my lips descend. I never thought I'd love someone as much as I loved my mother, yet here I am, watching the dead meet the life, both of which hold a part of me I can never take back from them.

"They say you can never leave this world alive," he murmurs softly. "And yet she left such a precious life behind." He glances at me tenderly.

I choke back on my tears, inhaling a shaky breath that whirls inside me like storm of the night, heavy, crushing, consuming. Dad steps beside me, his strong built supporting my weak knees and I hug him around the torso, resting my cheek on his broad chest as I watch Vivaan talk to my mother.

"Thank you, Scarlett, thank you for giving us such a beautiful gift. Thank you for choosing to become a mother she'll never stop loving, missing, mourning."

I bury my face in my father's chest and his arms come around me, holding me strongly as I breakdown in gut wrenching sobs.

"She's healing us." He says shakily, and that hits me harder.

"Shh," I hear Dad whisper as he traces a hand down my spine, soothing, gentle, a touch that blankets me with a sense of serenity, security, surreality.

I can't believe I have a family now. The world of a sixteen year old, that started with her mother and ended there, had a universe within itself, and I never realised that until these men came into my life.

"Come, we should meet her too," Dad stirs me closer to the grave, making me kneel before my mother. I brush away the tears from my eyes, clearing my gaze so I can look at her to the brim of my heart. "Look at her Scarlett, four months and she's got an army of men protecting her." He chuckles tearfully, caressing her name gently. "Who'd have thought our Esther will begin her fairytale after our ends?"

I drag my lower lip beneath my teeth, clenching my jaw so I don't end up crying again. It's so easy to let it all out, to have a breakdown, blame the world and wallow in your sorrows. That makes me glance at my brother, and as he reminds me of the five others, I wonder how much they're holding within themselves. Pain is so hard to give up on. It sticks to you even through the fleeting moments of happiness.

As I extend my hand to touch her grave, I crave for her to reach out and hold me, hug me, hush me with her soft voice, assure me she's here and that she's not leaving me ever again.

I've had so many breakdowns ever since she died. I cried the whole night, mourned her everyday for a week, but the moment I think of her, no matter how much time has passed, a day, a week, a month, the loss feels new, the wounds feel fresh, and my tears chase an escape.

How long until I remember her with a smile?

How long until I think of her and don't regret the moments we missed, rather be grateful for the memories we made?

Grief has so many faces. And each one of them is a stranger. Like we've never met before.

"Tara?" A new voice calls out from behind. I look over my shoulder and find Agastya standing with a bouquet of lilies in his hand. He clears his throat. "You forgot this in the car."

I nod and stretch my arm to take it. "Thank you."

He hums, stepping back to retreat, but then looks at me and a worried frown replaces his blank face. "Are you okay?"

I fake a smile for his sake. "I'm fine."

He bites his lower lip, nodding in response. "I'll be waiting in our car." He points over his shoulder. "Bhai, you coming?" He asks reluctantly.

"No, I'll return with them." Vivaan smiles over his shoulder.

Agastya stuffs his hands inside his pocket, swelling his cheeks as he lingers awkwardly.

"Do you want to meet her?" I suggest softly.

He blinks and his cheeks deflate. "If- If it's not disrespectful."

I chuckle. "Of course not, she'd like to meet the boy who teases her daughter for her short height." I taunt him playfully and get up, my voice lighter, but my throat feels a little scratchy. I'll really appreciate a sip of water right now.

Grabbing his hand, I drag him closer. "Mumma, this is Agastya. I hated him when we first met! He called me bad names." I complain to my mother. "Haunt him!"

"Tara!" Agastya shoves me on the shoulder before looking alarmingly at the grave. "I- I didn't, Ma- Ma'am."

"Haw, liar. You did."

"I didn't!" He glares at me, enlarging his eyes in a warning.

"Mumma, he called me basta-" Agastya clamps a hand on my mouth, holding me hostage by nape as I struggle to set free.

"Shut up, you gremlin." He grits out.

"Mmfff!" I hit on his chest until he finally lets me go. "Dog!"

"Bitch!" He snaps back.

A strong wind blows through the graveyard and I raise a brow. "See, my mom's angry now." I smirk at him.

Agastya stumbles back. "I-I'll wait inside the car." With that he scurries off with his tail tucked between his legs. Such a scaredy cat.

I holler aloud, looking at Vivaan who stifles back a chuckle while Dad snorts out a laugh witnessing our childish tussle. "He's so easy to rile up." I scoff out in amusement and kneel back down in front of my mother's grave.

"He has never been fond of horror stuff."

"You hear that, Mom?" I ask the grave. "That's another reason to haunt that roach."

Vivaan shakes his head at me.

We leave after offering her the white lilies. She loved them when she was alive. And Dad told me when he was a resident at the hospital where she was a nurse, he'd always bring her a single lily. It was a symbol of their love. Pure, fragile, something that bloomed once, and then withered away forever.

"Agastya, we're visiting her old home. Do you want to come along? You can take a cab back home if you're not interested." Vivaan suggests as he gets behind the wheels and pulls the car out of the parking lot.

Agastya's lips purse together, seemingly contemplative. Then he glances at me and sighs in defeat. "I'll come along." I can't help but smile. I know he's not a big fan of my mother but since they're leaving tomorrow morning, he wants to spend as much time as he can with me. I wish Yuvraaj was here as well. But then, that'd be me relying solely on hope.

And hope rarely wins, even though you always trust it.

"Good call. You'll just be arguing with Yuvaan if you return home." Vivaan mutters, efficiently manouvering the car through the growing traffic.

"I don't argue with him." Agastya rolls his eyes.

Even Dad makes an effort to turn his head so he can look at Agastya, in disbelief of his words.

"What?" Agastya deadpans when I stare at him too. "He argues with me."

We both feign a nod and look back outside the window.

Agastya grunts and folds his arms across his chest, mumbling something under his breath.

Soon my childhood neighborhood comes into the view and I grow excited, glancing through all the windows so I can fit the tiny little world of the sixteen year old Tara in my eyes again. "See that park?" I point, my arm extended past Agastya's frame. He nods. "Every Sunday, Janet and I used to go there with her dog. This is where Mom used to bring me for cycling." I grin. "Oh, that's Dave!" I bend across my brother's lap, my hand gripping his thigh as I stick my head out of the window, "Dave!" And I scream. The old man startles and drops the water can, looking around haphazardly. I chuckle in amusement before sitting back on my side. "He didn't see me." Agastya glances out of the window.

"Calm down, Tara, you'll meet them all." Dad smiles through the rearview mirror.

I bounce on my seat, hardly able to hold in my excitement when my tiny little house becomes visible. The car stops in front of the rusty iron gates. "Wait, I'll open them!" I get out of the car and rush to the gates, trying to force them open but the rotten metal is stuck. Unexpectedly, I see Agastya step beside me and together, we push the gates open. They grunt in resistance. As the car drives inside from between us, I send him a smile of gratitude. He shrugs.

Vivaan hasn't even fully stepped out of the car before I'm grabbing his hand and dragging him to the swing my mother tied to the tree in our little front yard. "She used to sit there and feed me while I played on this swing!" I sit down and take a long leap, unable to stop my lips from splitting in a huge grin. "She always threatened to cut it off whenever I gave her a hard time with food. I was a picky eater!" I chuckle sheepishly.

"You still are." Agastya comes behind me and pushes me into the air.

"Are we not going inside the house?" Vivaan quirks a brow at me.

"Oh yes!" I slap a hand on my forehead. I always get over excited and forget stuff. "Come on," grabbing the keys from my pocket, I climb the stairs of the small porch and dig the key through the hole. "Dad?" I glance over my shoulder when I open the door. He's staring at the left of the yard, at the broken chair we forgot to throw out after she left us. It belonged to her study desk. And he has been staring at it from the time he exited the car. "Dad," Vivaan places a hand on his shoulder. He flinches slightly, possibly coming back to the present. "Let's go," he nods and follows us inside.

Surprisingly, the house is well kept. It has a little bit of dust settled here and there, but apart from that, it's still the same. Just how I had left it.

I've two homes now. My two safe havens. My beautiful abodes.

If a stranger compared the palace with this little house, he'll never think of them as something of equal worth. But I do. And that goes to say it's not the money that makes it home, it's the memories.

"Is this you and her?" I hear Agastya mumble. Turning around, I see Vivaan gravitating towards the frame on the wall. It has the picture of my mom holding me and pointing at the camera when I became a year old.

"She was beautiful," Vivaan whispers, and he looks at Dad. "She was truly beautiful. The painting does her no justice." He smiles at our father.

Dad tears up almost immediately, a wistful smile on his face.

"You've her eyes," Agastya looks at me in awe.

I chuckle. "What did you think until now? That dad wears lenses?"

He rolls his eyes and looks back at the frame. I walk up to his free side and curl my arm around his bicep, resting my head on his shoulder. "I was so cute."

"You were." I smile. "Time did you bad." He laments. I stand straight and hit him on the arm.

"I'm still cute."

He turns his head, squints his eyes at me and sighs. "I'd agree, but then we both would be wrong."

"You stole that from Pinterest, didn't you?"

"No! It's original."

"Yeah, and I'm Van Gogh." I snort.

"Bhai, c'mon, I'll show you my room!" I slip my hand in Vivaan's and drag him upstairs. The stairs creek underneath our footsteps, compelling Dad to advise us to be careful. I open the first door on the left and step inside, spreading my arms afar. "Tada!"

He smiles, stepping inside and looking around the little attic I call my room. The ceiling is low so he has to walk crouched, but he doesn't show the discomfort on his face.

"Short stuff, was this made according to your height?" Agastya steps in, his head bent as he glances around.

I kick him on the shin.

"Only losers resort to violence when they fail at words." He grumbles, pushing me off so hard I stumble back.

"Oh, well, that makes you a loser too!" I resist the gravity's pull.

"No, it just makes you malnourished. Eat more." He scowls at me.

I mock his face before turning around. I see Vivaan looking out of the small window at the bedside and reach his side. He turns his head to look down at me with a small smile. "So this is where our little princess lived before?"

I nod, looking back outside the window, and spot Aunt July grabbing clothes from the hanger. "Aunt July!" I shout from the distance.

She startles and looks around, just like Dave did. "Here!" I wave at her wildly. She finally recognises the source of voice and looks up on her right. Her mouth falls open before the shirt in her hand drops to the ground.

"Tara!" She waves back with the same enthusiasm.

I giggle and lean in. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, dearest. How are you?"

"Magnificent!" I reply.

"Who's the handsome guy beside you?" She queries and hearing her, Agastya rushes to my side and pokes his head out to show that there are two handsome guys. I roll my eyes. My brother's such a knucklehead. "Two, Tara?" She gasps. "I'm so glad you heeded to my advise of trapping a rich man, but two men?"

"What?" Vivaan whispers in shock.

"Ew," Agastya scrunches his nose.

I laugh. "They are my brothers, Aunt July. Brothers!"

"Two brothers? Where did you find them?" She asks in surprise.

"Six, actually. And I didn't. They found me." I smile back.

"That's a lot to take at my age, honey." She shakes her head, placing a hand on her chest.

I nod. "I know. I'll tell you everything when I get time. See you later!"

"Are you here to stay?" She asks with a furrow of her brows.

"Yes, but not here specifically. I'm staying with my brothers." I answer.

"Okay," she nods. "So happy to meet you, love. Stop by whenever you get time. I'll bake you chocolate muffins." She smiles and then waves at my brothers, "Bye, handsomes." With a wink, she picks up the shirt and walks back inside her house.

"Cougar." Agastya comments.

"Hey, she's nice. She was being her usual self." I admonish him.

"A cougar?" He cocks a brow.

"No, playful." I deadpan. "When mom was first diagnosed with Cancer, she was advised to take full rest. Until the time I learned how to cook, Aunt July fed us." I tell them. "I owe her so much." A sigh escapes my lips.

"Oh," Agastya murmurs, now guilty.

"We owe her so much." Vivaan wraps an arm around me.

I smile up at him.

As the two look through my forgotten things, I sit at the edge of the bed and admire them.

Four months ago, everything seemed to creep in closer, ready to swallow me, my hopes, my dreams, my ambitions, and then these six dorks stepped in, fighting off those demons, unaware they saved me from a life I was dreading to live.

I can't ever be enough grateful for what these men have given me. They changed my life, flipped it upside down, and strangely, that's what I wanted. The old me could have never survived without my mother. But the new me is, and it's all because of them.

"Eww, you have a habit of chewing the end of your pencil." Agastya picks up one from my desk.

The smile on my lips fall. "Tha- that's not mine."

"Ew, you have a habit of collecting chewed pencil." He grimaces at me.

I blink. "That sounds worse, doesn't it?" I look up at Vivaan.

He nods, smiling in amusement.

"I get stressed often. So I chew my pencils. But I don't do that anymore!" I quickly defend. "I've got rid of that habit."

Agastya chucks off the pencil. "I'm never touching your pen or pencil again."

"Yeah, you'd first want to study to need a pen or pencil." I retort.

"I study enough!"

"We'll see that when your results are out," I smile sweetly.

"Alright, enough, stop arguing at every chance you get." Vivaan steps in. "Tara, if there's anything you'd like to take back, tell me now so we can start packing."

"We're taking those frames." Agastya quickly says. "Especially those having her childhood pictures."

I stop myself from pulling his cheeks. Sometimes he's so adorable.

And other times?

Insufferable.

"I also have an album. But it's in Mom's room. There are a few things of her in there I'd like to take with me." I add softly.

"Sure," Vivaan shrugs. "Let's go, then. It's already late in the afternoon. We need to stop by somewhere to have lunch." He glances at his Rolex before walking out of the room. Agastya and I follow him.

We descend the staircase and I lead them to my mother's room. But as I go to open the door, the sound of sobs stop me in my place. I pull my arm back, glancing at my brothers, and they look just as startled as me.

"Is that Dad?" Agastya pushes past me and gently presses his palm on the doorframe, looking through the slit. Dad sits on the bedside facing the wall, his back hunched, shoulders dropped low, and they tremble, violently, stiffening everytime he takes in a deep breath, before sagging as he falls back in the outstretched arms of grief.

Agastya's lips part in shock. I frown in confusion. He's reacting as though he never saw Dad crying like this before. "I've never seen him cry like that before." He murmurs.

So, he really hasn't.

"We'll get the things later," Vivaan wraps his hand around Agastya's wrist and pulls it off the door.

Agastya looks up at him, a strange look of fascination swimming in his eyes. "Did you ever see him cry like that? Yuvaan Bhai told me he didn't shed a tear when Dadi and Mom died." His tone comes out accusing.

Vivaan clenches his jaw. "You don't mourn the people you regret existing with. You mourn the ones that didn't exist with you long enough."

Agastya sighs softly. "He really never loved her."

Because she never deserved it.

It's on tip of my tongue but I stop myself.

"C'mon, he deserves some privacy." Holding our hands, Vivaan leads us back to the living room.

We don't even get to come out of the moment fully before the main door is thrown open and my best friend barges in, announcing herself with the words, "Bitch, your best friend has arrived!" Her arms drop to her sides when she spots my brothers. "Oh, you're not alone. Hi." She waves at them sheepishly.

Vivaan smiles back awkwardly.

"Cut her off. She's weird." Agastya whispers in my ear.

I elbow him in the ribs. "Shut up," ignoring his wince, I take a step forward in her direction when another presence steps inside, this one, completely unexpected.

"Sam?"

Janet looks at me guiltily. "We were passing by and then I saw the car in the driveway. I thought it's only you and maybe a guard." She shrugs. "He was my surprise for you." She admits in a sheepish tone, now scared of my brothers.

"So, this is Sam." Vivaan steps past me, his body rigid, face stoic.

"Sam who?" Agastya frowns. "Why do I feel like I've heard this name before?" That's right, stay dumb.

"Oh, they were each other's first crush. He also got her first kiss. Lucky guy, I must say." God damnit, Janet. "Oops." She presses her lips shut when Agastya grows visibly furious.

Sam swallows. "Hello, gentlemen."

Poor guy.

Janet pats his arm sympathetically. "RIP, Sam. You'll be missed. I'm taking your history homework. Thank you." And she steps aside as my brothers cage him from both the directions.

Never thought Sam would make a re-entry like this.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment. Makes my day.